Disclaimer: All characters, settings and themes recognised in the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling.

I've updated a bit recently. Not too much – only 3 chapters – but I'm hoping it'll keep you guys satisfied for when the writer's block hits again, which I know it will soon. Enjoy! Review if you liked it. 3

~ Mae

Chapter 5

Eyes. All she could see were eyes staring at her. She was so very tempted to seek out the ones she knew would be glowing red in 50 years time but, remembering Dumbledore's words, she kept her eyes trained firmly before her.

Dumbledore was moving at a faster rate than her (she feared she might trip), and she was only halfway down the House tables when he was taking his seat beside the Headmaster at the Head table. The woman who had been ushering the First Years in twenty minutes before was standing at the stool with the Sorting Hat clutched firmly in her grasp. Hermione noted with relief that the stool had been magically heightened, so she wouldn't be practically squatting on it like an idiot.

"Miss Malfoy, up you come. Hurry along, dear," she heard Dippet call out, and her face flushed. Summoning all the courage she had and trying to live up to her House's reputation, she fastened her pace and before she knew it, was standing at the front of the Hall, facing the stool. She could feel three hundred gazes boring into her, and the heat crept up her neck to settle on her cheeks, re-enforcing the blush from before.

"Sit down, dear," the professor with the Sorting Hat said kindly. "It won't hurt."

Hermione gave a jerky nod and turned swiftly, before plopping herself down onto the stool. She closed her eyes as she felt the Hat being placed on her head.

Granger.

Her eyes flew open when she heard that, knowing that the Sorting Hat was talking to her, but wondering if anyone else had heard it. Judging by their judicial expressions, they hadn't.

Yes? Her inner-voice sounded timid, and she winced.

I've Sorted you before, I see.

How do you know that? For a brief moment, the inner intellectual made an appearance. She had always been fascinated by the Sorting Hat, but had never studied it because she was never allowed to go near it after First Year, when she had been too awed by the castle to pay attention to a tatty hat.

There was a pause. You will address me as Mr. Sorting Hat. That unforeseen comment caused Hermione to break out in giggles, for it was one of the few funny things she had heard since arriving back in time, and she spent a few minutes trying for air before she remembered where she was and promptly blanked her face again. Luckily for her, she wasn't the type to start rolling on the floor in hysterics, but more than half the students were watching her with confusion anyway.

Go on, Mr. Sorting Hat.

I can see your memories, girl. They are…fascinating, to say the least. You have a mission.

Yes, Mr. Sorting Hat.

I must decide where to put you. Gryffindor before, eh? A brave one, but you have an insatiable thirst for knowledge…Ravenclaw quality.

Hermione closed her eyes again and cleared her mind, glee forgotten. She didn't particularly have any House in mind that she wanted to be put in, because all of them had some kind of benefit. However, this was an important moment. Wherever she was put would greatly influence how she would execute her plan. There was one House, however, that she knew she had the highest chance of being placed in, solely for this task.

The Hat was silent for a few minutes, and she wondered what was taking it so long.

Patience, girl. Your mission. You desire to destroy one of the students here… you are a time-traveller. Very interesting. I suppose the most beneficial House to put you in for this task will be SLYTHERIN!

The last word was shouted, and although Hermione had been expecting it, it didn't dull the pained expression that made its way onto her face. Slytherin. Yuck.

She had expected the Hat to take longer to Sort her, but shrugged it off and stood up. The woman who had held the Hat now took it back, and gestured for Hermione to move to a table where all the students wore green and silver ties and watched her calculatingly. Hermione replied with a wry grin, and lifting her chin, stepped off the dais and walked to the Slytherin table.

The first person she saw was Eileen Prince, staring at her with an unreadable expression. Hermione hesitated, before moving towards her. Coincidentally, the other girl had a spare seat beside her, and Hermione decided that she'd rather sit there than with the First Years, who sat nearest to the Head table.

"Hi," she said softly, taking her seat. She stared at her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap. "How are you?"

"Fine." Eileen's voice was clipped as she scrutinised Hermione. "You're a Malfoy?"

She looked up, surprised. "You didn't know? I thought you said Dumbledore had already told you about me?"

"He didn't mention your last name."

Before Hermione could reply, Dippet rose from his seat in the centre of the High table to give his yearly welcoming speech to the students.

Hermione found him immensely boring. He droned on about the most mundane things, and it wasn't until fifteen minutes later that he finally took a breath and let them eat. At least Dumbledore had made an effort to keep it interesting.

Hermione was reaching for the steak and kidney pie when she felt a firm tap on her shoulder. Her reflexes kicked in, and spinning around very gracefully for a person who had been sitting, her wand was in her hand and was being pushed into the neck of the person behind her. Her eyes widened when she found herself staring into dark grey eyes that held slight apprehension and copious amounts of amusement.

"I'm sorry!" she squeaked, stowing her wand back into her robe hurriedly. She blushed fiercely. That was the second time she had had an unwarranted reaction to something. It made her realise how paranoid and jumpy the people of her time were. With good reason, but now, in a more relaxed environment, it seemed very strange and even scary to her.

"Woah, hold up there, cousin," Abraxas Malfoy exclaimed, grinning and leaning back with his hands in the air in surrender. "I'm not attacking you."

"I know," Hermione muttered. She looked up at him. He was the spitting image of Draco at first sight, but now that she had actually seen him in person, she noticed his face was slightly longer and he was more broad-shouldered than her husband. His hair was also longer than it had been in the file's photograph. Hermione stowed this information away, hoping it would help her differentiate between her husband and his grandfather. "I'm sorry."

Hermione stood awkwardly at the table, not meeting his eyes. He seemed to be thinking for a moment, before he stuck out his hand.

"Abraxas Malfoy," he said graciously. "And you're my cousin Hermione?"

"Yes, I am." Hermione took his hand and was all set for shaking it when he turned her hand over and pressed a chaste kiss to the back of it. She went red again. "How did you know?" she asked, quickly taking her hand back as politely as she could.

"Dumbledore took me aside," Abraxas explained. He suddenly looked down and saw Eileen sitting there, staring at her dinner. He sneered, but didn't say anything to her, opting to ignore her completely. "Would you like to sit by my friends and I? It'll save you the unpleasant company and conversation."

So some things hadn't changed. The Malfoys were still arrogant and thought themselves superior, and instead of being offended, she found herself finding comfort in that. Nevertheless, she didn't want to be rude to Eileen. After all, she was good friends – or acquaintances, as Severus had hastened to remind her whenever the subject of 'friendship' had come up - with her son in the future.

"I'm sorry, Abraxas, but-"

"Nonsense!" Abraxas grabbed her wrist and began pulling her along with him. "You're my cousin, and I've never even met you! We need to catch up, we're family!"

Hermione sent a helpless look in Eileen's direction, but the girl wasn't looking at her. Instead, she was glaring at her goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Eileen, I'm sorry-"

"Go with your cousin," Eileen hissed. "I don't want to be seen talking to disgusting Malfoys anyway. One is already enough."

Hermione pulled back, looking hurt. She let Abraxas lead her away from Eileen, Abraxas muttering under his breath about 'bad breeding' and 'awful company'. "You don't want to mix with her, Hermione," Abraxas stated. "She's a bad sort."

They reached the end of the table where several Seventh Year Slytherins were talking as they ate. Hermione was surprised to see that most of them were laughing and joking around, so different from the Slytherins of her time. A couple of girls were flirting shamelessly with the boys who sat across from them, while two immature boys were throwing peas at each other. It amazed Hermione how similar it was to the Gryffindor table, before the war.

"Children, settle down," Abraxas said sarcastically, grinning at his Housemates. "We've got a new one. Meet my lovely cousin, Hermione."

"Oi! You never told us you had a cousin, Malfoy!" a boy with black, wavy hair and grey eyes exclaimed. "And a damn good looking one, too!"

Hermione didn't even bother blushing. He wasn't even complimenting her true appearance anyway. She was too intent on staring at the boy, for he looked exactly like a younger version of Sirius Black. She had known that there was a strong possibility that she'd meet the relatives of people long gone, but every time she did meet them, it struck her with how similar the people looked, and her heart ached. Even so, she pasted a bright smile on her face.

"They're so loud and happy," she murmured to Abraxas, who sent her a surprised side glance.

"Not used to it?"

"No…" Hermione didn't say anymore; she knew Abraxas would draw his own conclusions. "So, are you going to introduce me to everyone, or what?"

Abraxas did indeed introduce her to all the Seventh Year Slytherins.

Alphard Black was apparently the handsome ladies' man, and was the one who had called out before. Hermione remembered Harry telling her that he had been Sirius' uncle, and had been the only one to leave Sirius gold when he had died. He made a few more flirtatious remarks, but was silenced by Abraxas' mock warning glare. It warmed her to have another person looking out for her.

Asterope Black and Denebola Black were twin girls and Alphard's cousins. Both were very pretty, as was typical of the Black family, with sharp, aristocratic features. While Asterope had pitch-black hair that was straight as a pin, Denebola's hair was chestnut and curly. Hermione found out shortly that they had personalities similar to that of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.

Araminta Meliflua was the last of the Slytherin Seventh Year girls aside from Eileen. She had black hair held back in a classic chignon and an expression that reeked 'haughty Pureblood'. Her green eyes pierced Hermione with a cold stare, and she was glad to be turned away from the unsettling girl.

Cephas Avery, Lycaon Lestrange, Elias Rosier and Godric Nott played the part of the pranksters in the group. They reminded her of what she thought the Marauders had been like. Hermione found it strange that the future Death Eaters were so careless and happy, and nothing at all like their relatives; nothing at all like she expected future cold-blooded killers to be. When she had commented on Godric's name, he had grimaced while the others jeered. "My father was a Gryffindor," he scowled in explanation, but then had joined in the laughing anyway. Apparently, it wasn't a joke that got old.

The last of the group caused Hermione to almost choke on air. Although it was illogical and made no sense, she had hoped he wouldn't be here. No such luck. "And finally," Abraxas said, sounding almost proud, "our very own Head Boy, and the biggest joker of the lot, Tom Riddle."

Author's Note:

Well, I had a hard time finding enough of Tom's little gang to make up a whole Slytherin Seventh Year. I tried to keep the patterns in the family names as best I could, but I'm not sure they're too creditable.

There were no Averys with first names, so I just turned to the good ol' Latin names the Pureblood families are so fond of using. Cephas means 'rock or stone'.

I based the Lestrange family names on Rodolphus, which is a Latin name. Rodolphus means 'famous wolf' or 'wolf counsel'. Lycaon possibly means 'wolf'.

The only known named Rosier is Evan, who was one of the Death Eaters. Evan apparently means 'God is gracious' in Welsh, so following along those religious lines, Elias is the Greek form of the Welsh name Elis, which means 'the Lord is my God'.

As for Nott, well, Theodore Nott's (Hermione's classmate) first name comes from English, meaning 'gift of God'. Godric means 'strong God'. I chose it because of the irony. xD

And because I couldn't find any girls who had the same birthdate as Tom and would be in his year, I threw in a few OCs.